


Cause I Have Been Aiming For Heaven Above (But An Angel Ain’t What I Need)

by ettedab



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Gore, Death, M/M, Necromancy, Non-Linear Narrative, They went through a lot it's a bit sad, Tom will move heaven and hell for Harry, Torture, i dont wanna add tags because I don't wanna spoil much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21779503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ettedab/pseuds/ettedab
Summary: Once, Tom had fallen in love.It doesn’t end well.(Nothing ever does).
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Cause I Have Been Aiming For Heaven Above (But An Angel Ain’t What I Need)

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been a drarry fan but lately I've discovered the wonder and beauty of the Tomarry fandom (oh, the angst guys, they're literally soulmates--Harry has a piece of Tom's soul in him, and what could be better than that????)
> 
> Title came from the song Sanctuary by Joji.
> 
> P.S. I'm a med student so updates may be irregular, but I'll definitely finish this stroy. I have so many ideas for this, after all <3

“How can you do _this_?”

The anguished wailing comes to an abrupt halt as Tom presses the tip of the knife harder against the thin skin bared before him. Just an inch further and he’ll draw blood, he’s certain of it. He couldn’t hide his glee as he speaks, try as he might. “Oh, I think you know why.” 

Slughorn struggles uselessly at the conjured bonds keeping him still in his seat, seemingly full of energy as if he hasn’t expended so much with all the yelling he had done for the past hour. Tom only regards him with unrestrained amusement, letting his Professor tire himself out. It fascinates him, the way someone would fight off the inevitable. 

And the begging doesn’t hurt, too. “Please. I know you’re still _you_ , Tom-”

Something in him snaps at the casual use of his own name. With a single, swift motion Tom thrusts the blade through the flesh, feeling the exact moment when the skin and tissue give beneath the pressure. He doesn’t stop there, it’s not _enough_ , so he pierces the tip deeper. He watches idly as blood starts to ooze out in rivulets, trailing down in a slow dance until it seeps through the front of Slughorn’s robes. The sight of it is oddly calming to Tom’s nerves, but he could barely conceal the threat masking his words the moment they rush out. “You don’t know me. You _don’t_.”

His professor could only cry silently in response as the blood continues to gush out. His hand doesn’t even waver at the hilt; Tom notes how Slughorn’s face pales as the seconds tick by, his breathing becoming ragged. And he sees when Slughorn’s shoulders slump in defeat and his body become lax. Slughorn bows his head forward, hiding his face from view through the curtain of his hair.

Tom’s lips curves up into a semblance of a smile at Slughorn’s implicated acceptance of the situation. _Finally._ After months of preparation, tonight will bear fruit of his efforts and precious time spent waiting. 

And so Tom rewards him by dragging the knife lower, just stopping right above the pulse point thrumming faintly on his neck. “Don’t you feel a little proud, Professor? After all, I just executed perfectly the idea that you have generously given me.” 

He nearly laughs at the guilt and self-loathing playing through Slughorn’s features. Oh, he is so _so easy._ “You’ll regret this, Tom.”

Tom’s voice softens the slightest bit just as he drives the knife home. “ _O ye of little faith_ , _Professor_.” 

His professor’s last words have been a whispered apology, so faint that Tom barely manages to hear it. Almost. _I’m sorry._

His body shakes with anger, partly because of the words and mostly because of the fact that he had let it affect him so easily, and how he had lost control of his emotions several times already in just a span of a few hours. Tom wants to bring him back, right then and there, just so Slughorn could hear his reply. _I have no need for your penance, or anyone else’s. Not even anything._

After all, nothing is enough. 

(Nothing _will be_ enough for what he had gone through, and what he has to go through still). 

There’s a dead body in front of him, and yet he sees a different one, feels that he’s in an entirely different scenario, where there’s so much blood on his hands—it’s not his own but he wishes that it should be his instead, _please not him_ , and all he could think about is those green eyes staring back at him, blank and devoid of life.

He thinks of the words he’d said before, flashing through his mind like a painful reminder. _“I’ll lay down the world at your feet. And if you don’t want it, then I’ll burn it down for you. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Criticisms highly appreciated!! I won't bite! You could even suggest some scenes you'd want to see in the future :) Or how you'd like the story to turn out hehe I'm very open-minded :)


End file.
